Princes of the Blood
by Viking Princess
Summary: Saya is sleeping, and her friends and family stand watch against the uncertain future. But a new danger is moving, one with conviction and immortality on their side. Chapter 3: Familiar faces, new threat.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: This story originally came into my mind as a one shot. But as it turns out, the story has a life of its own, and it had other plans. I'm not positive where it's leading me, all I can do now is wait for it to reveal itself, I guess. I hope you enjoy._

**Princes of the Blood**

There was a moment of pure sensation and perfect awareness, so acute, almost frightening in its clarity. The sound of his breath filling his nose, throat and lungs before reversing its passage. The feel of his arterial pulse against the warm linen of the pillow case. The pure blackness of his closed eyes. The relaxed heaviness of his still sleeping body. The slightly chilled air, electric with silence that indicated the lateness of the hour.

And then the slight catch in the perfect rhythm, the surprise and subtle startle response in realizing with that unqualifiable sense all humans possess that another person was near, and watching him. He noticed the increase in his pulse, the shallowing of his breath, and the sluicing of adrenalin into his muscles.

Then he reached out, turning over slightly, to pull back the covers on the other side of the bed, an unspoken invitation. "What time is it?" Kai asked, his voice, while whispered, sounded jarringly loud in his ears.

"Late," Saya replied, also in a whisper. She stood beside his bed in her cotton shorts and tank top, shoulders slightly hunched from the chill in the air. From the chill, and of words and emotions that pushed against her will to restrain them. Kai pushed the covers further back and patted the mattress, then looked to his visitor. Saya seemed so young, so bruised, almost ashamed. Could she see the concern in his eyes, even in the darkness of the bedroom?

"I'm sorry," she breathed, bowing her head to let her black hair shield her face.

The apology sent a stinging down Kai's throat. "Don't be," he said, sitting up further and ducking his head, trying to catch her eye. "Please. Saya." At the name her eyes lifted, revealing glittering moistness and a world of sorrow. The gaze held for a moment longer before Kai opened his arms and beckoned slightly with a nod of his head. At this Saya seemed to collapse into his waiting embrace.

She burrowed in close to him as though to absorb the heat of his body through her skin. He felt her hair brush under his nose and her breath as she nuzzled her cheek in near the soft, vulnerable hollow of his throat. The swallow was involuntary as his memory replayed a scene from a time not so long passed, of teeth and blood. Not that he feared her intentions. The gentle tremors shivering her body against his did not come from a sense of cold. The tears that fell against his chest were scalding. Still, some comforting instinct inside him encouraged his arms to wrap her more completely, to press her to him as though to squeeze the tremors into submission. The release of tears seemed to fall forever into her, descending to the deepest, blackest place before she drew breath in a rasping gulp, giving volume to her misery as the sobs came more freely. Kai feared that one could die of empathy, sheltering this tender bird in his bed as one would hold a chick in the palm of the hand, delicately, with infinite tenderness and concern.

He would not rush her to explain what had prompted the late night visit. Very likely it was the same as every other night since they had returned to Okinawa. Like a child afraid of her nightmares, afraid of the dark, Saya had come to him for comfort, for a way to keep from drowning in the darkness of her own memories. In the daylight she could pretend to be the innocent, naïve, optimistic Saya who played at being a high-school girl and untroubled teenager. She could convince anyone of her ability to move on and endure the uncertain future, as she had done countless time in the span of her unnaturally long life. But that power faded with the sun. And sure enough, when the city was quiet and the dark was at its zenith, she would run to Kai's bed and waiting arms.

It was a primal response, innocent, a simple desire to be comforted. And his instinct was to provide that comfort, even if he was only a substitute for her. She cried for everyone who was gone, and for one in particular, whose absence was, to her, like losing all links to her history and identity. Kai knew this, and to his surprise, there was no resentment. She cried his tears for him, mourning those whom he too would have leaned on at times like these.

After such an exhausting release of emotion, Saya began to sniffle more than sob, and her limbs lost their rigidity. The close contact of Kai seemed to melt her, and her breath slowly began to mirror his – slow, deep, and warm. And soon her fists unfurled and became unconscious explorers, slowly tracing his arms, outlining his face, creeping into his hair.

He felt her sigh, heard it, and answered with his own. How could it be that his arms enfolded her so perfectly? The lightest, most innocent caress made his skin burn with longing and shame. She sighed again, and he felt her fingers following the thin vertical ribbing of his tank top up to his throat, across his jaw and to his face where they fluttered moth-like over his features. As she passed them ever so lightly across his mouth he bit back the urge to press his lips to them. Instead, he remained motionless, a victim to her unknowing seduction. He was sure that she didn't intend to enflame him this way, and his mind flinched from the thought of what she would think of him if she knew what he was imagining right this moment.

Every night it was this way, and every time his mind became foggy, obscuring why he shouldn't feel what he was feeling for the girl he was told to call sister, his only remaining family. This sister with whom there was no blood bond. No, there were no ties of blood…

Before he could contemplate this any further, however, Saya spoke. And when she did it was to voice a fear that he too had been mulling over repeatedly in the past days. "Kai, what will happen after I'm gone?"

The finality of it sent chills up Kai's arms, prickling like fingers around his scalp. "Who says you're going anywhere?" he replied with false light heartedness.

Saya sighed. "You know what I mean, Kai. When I sleep." She pulled away from his embrace slightly to better see his face in the dark. "It will be soon," she whispered darkly, her mahogany eyes imparting the seriousness of her intention, "I can feel it."

He couldn't look away for a moment, paralyzed by the idea of her no longer with him, perhaps even as soon as tomorrow. What if they fell asleep tonight and in the morning it was only he who woke? "I don't know, Saya, I don't want to talk about it right now," he pleaded, the horror of his imaginings overcoming him for a moment.

"I know," she replied, sinking down beside him once again, wrapping her thin arms around him even tighter than before. He reflexively did the same, as though memorizing this moment in preparation for the future absence. "I don't want to talk about it either," she continued, "but I think I'm more afraid of going to sleep with things left undone and unsaid."

Again a shudder snaked up Kai's spine. "You talk about it like it's death," he choked out.

"I guess it feels that way," Saya agreed. "At any moment now I could fall into a dreamless sleep and not wake for thirty years or more – a lifetime to some people – and when –" she paused and swallowed, "If I wake, it will be to a completely different world, where all my loved ones are changed or gone."

"You will wake," Kai burst out, starting back and taking her arm firmly. "What makes you think you won't?"

"What proof do I have?" she answered thinly. "Why did my mother die? Where are the rest of those like me? Are there any?" She looked down, and the moonlight hollowed her eyes and cheeks. "The point is we don't really know anything. I don't even know why I sleep."

"I don't think that it's abnormal for you," Kai reasoned slowly. "Didn't Solomon tell you that Di-… that your…. That she did the same?"

The voicing of these names brought a heavy quietness to the room, deep as the grave. 'She' referred to Saya's sister Diva, a name that Kai was unwilling to wield. Too much pain had entered their lives on her account. But he knew Saya understood. Adopted brother and sister looked at each other after a long moment.

"Yes," Saya agreed, "she did. But why do I sleep for thirty years at a time when a chevalier never sleeps at all?"

Saya tried to save herself, tried to hide her face from him, but Kai saw the light go out of her eyes, the slight withdrawing into herself that even the slightest reference produced. The absence of her own chevalier was as a bleeding wound to her. Another silence stretched out across the bed.

She untangled herself gently from the bedclothes, stood stiffly and walked to the window, looking out onto a sleeping Okinawa and Kai's eyes followed her. She didn't want to talk about Haji. And to be honest, neither did Kai. He could never be sure how he felt about Saya's loyal follower and companion, the man who had been with her since her beginning. Kai had come to respect his loyalty to Saya, had even been thankful when time and again Kai had seen her chevalier step between her and danger. But to think of him as a man, as the man closest to Saya… that was dangerous ground.

"There's so much still that I don't remember," Saya contemplated quietly to the window. He could see her face in the reflection, eyes looking out but seeing nothing but her thoughts. "Little things. But they mean so much."

"Maybe they will come back to you," Kai offered. He knew it sounded weak, but what could he say to her?

"Maybe." She leaned her head against the glass and closed her eyes. She was lost in her own world, and Kai could do nothing but watch and wonder what memory her mind was caressing.

Abruptly, she opened her eyes. "What if I wake up next time and I don't remember anything? Just like last time." She opened her eyes and found his reflection in the window. "What if I don't remember you?"

The idea made Kai feel cold. "Why do you think that would happen again?"

She shrugged, but could feel the tension rising in her. "I talked with Julia about it. About the possibility. And she said…" Saya broke off. "There's so much we don't know," she continued, and Kai couldn't tell whether she was irritated or afraid. "This time I woke and couldn't remember a single thing. For over a year I was like that. A year!" she exclaimed, casting a look over her shoulder at Kai, who was, by now, sitting restlessly on the side of the bed. "It wasn't until he kissed…" Saya actually flinched, and Kai felt he had as well. "…until Haji gave me his blood that I began to remember things. And Julia thinks that's the key. I don't truly awaken until I receive chevalier's blood."

Kai felt the wheels of his mind come to a screeching halt. God, if that was true… if that was true, then this coming sleep – now seeming to come at a frightening pace – may be a death in truth, a death to the Saya he knew and loved. When she woke he would be a middle aged man and she would have no recollection of him at all. All this would be lost but for the seeming imagining of the old man Kai would become.

His Saya, the one who was standing before him, confiding in him, relying on him, loving him, would be gone forever.

Fear drove him from the bed and before he could think or she react he had embraced her, pressing her small body to his in a fierce hold. "No," he pleaded, whispering into her hair. "I can't let that happen. I won't let that happen."

"I'm afraid," she admitted. "I don't want that either. If you only knew, Kai, only knew how much it scares me. But I think I'm out of time."

"What do you mean?"

"Red Shield has been looking for him, Kai, looking for Haji." Kai started back. This was news to him. All accounts he had read reported the chevalier as dead. Her beautiful face looked up at his. "But they can't find him."

"What makes them think he survived?" The possibility had to be the slimmest odds in history.

"Hope, I guess."

Kai was startled by the force of the anger that suddenly flashed through him. "That's not good enough," he exclaimed, taking Saya by the arms, looking with desperate pleading into her eyes. "That's not near good enough. We can't let you sleep without knowing you'll be okay when you wake up." He let go and turned, taking several barely contained strides across the room before turning back. "There has to be something else we can do. Some other way."

When he looked back to her, Saya had an expression on her face unlike any other he'd seen. With all she'd been through, with all she'd done, never had Kai seen fear like this on her face.

His confusion only lasted a moment. The answer, after all, was obvious. And his choice was clear.

Kai took a step toward Saya, and she backed away. "No." It was meant to sound authoritative and final, but the fear bled through.

He closed the distance, backing her into the window. The two stood facing each other, inches apart. "Saya."

"No." This time it was a plea, and a tear streamed down her flushed cheek. "Kai. Please. No."

Kai watched the tear light its way downward, following the plane of her face to drizzle over her quivering lips and off the tip of her chin. Then he looked to her haunted eyes. He felt remorse, and he felt fear, but he pushed them down.

"Saya," he repeated, firmly and quietly. "Make me your chevalier."

_A/N: Another chapter is coming, though as I said, I'm not entirely sure where it's going just yet. I hope you can be patient with me. Any thoughts? Please feel free to review. And thank you for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Princes of the Blood**

**Chapter 2**

Kai stood impatiently before the door of a nondescript apartment. He knocked a second time. Just as he dropped his hand the door was opened from within and Julia stood before him, dressed casually in jeans and a man's dress shirt, apparently thrown on with no regard. She eyed him carefully, scrutinizing him, or so it seemed to Kai, before stepping back. He entered.

"Are you all right?" she asked softly, closing the door behind him.

Kai grimaced, his back turned to her. "I will be," he replied. "Where are they?"

"In the kitchen."

David and Lewis were sitting at the table when they entered, and both paused their conversation to look at him. David stood when he saw Kai, and Lewis reapplied himself to the bagel before him.

"Where is Saya now?" David asked, in his typical clipped, business-like voice.

Kai shrugged defensively. "I couldn't make her stay. She's upset."

Lewis looked up at this, but it was David who answered. "Then we need to find her."

"Don't you think I tried?" Kai replied hotly. "I looked everywhere I thought she might run to. I even tried the beach and the tomb. That's where I called you from."

"You didn't mention she was missing."

"She's not." The two men, younger and older, looked to Lewis, who was studying the screen of his phone. "The security system at Omoro, residential door, was just disabled with her code two minutes ago," he said before tearing another bite from the bagel. "I can call if you like, but I'm sure it's her." He punched a couple of buttons while David regained his seat and Kai gaped at the former CIA agent. "Camera outside the door confirms it," he said around his chewing.

"You have cameras and devices on the Omoro?" Kai didn't know whether to be relieved or furious.

"Protecting Saya is our highest priority," David commented evenly. Julia sat at the table with them after bringing a pot of tea and four mugs. Lewis reached eagerly for his while Julia portioned out the rest. Kai remained standing.

"We did as you asked," David continued, changing topic. "You called and demanded to speak to the three of us. Now I think it's time for an explanation on why we're all awake in the middle of the night."

Kai bristled, irritated by David's emotionless, authoritative manner for the millionth time. "Explanations. Yeah, that's why I'm here. I want some god damned explanations for why I'm being kept out of the loop."

Julia opened her mouth, but it was David who spoke. "We tell you what you need to know. That's all." Apparently he was not in a giving mood either.

"You say that to me? After all we've been through you son of a –"

Julia interrupted. "Kai, please." Then she turned to David. "This does not answer why we're here. Why don't we let Kai tell us what's wrong, and we can sort it out."

Lewis laughed. "Already keeping the children in line, eh Momma?" She smiled at him, but then turned to Kai with an expectant look.

His frown was so deep it felt permanent, and his hands were clenched around the back of the wooden chair, but he forced himself to relax slightly and pull out the chair, sitting and placing his hands flat to the table top. He addressed his first comment to the female doctor. "Saya told me tonight that she's been speaking with you about her hibernation."

Julia nodded slowly. "Yes. I figured that's what this would be about."

"She told me it's your belief that only a chevalier's blood can awaken her," said Kai.

Again Julia nodded. "That's right."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Research," she replied. "I've been looking back over the files regarding Saya's hibernation periods, looking for patterns, looking for clues." She sipped her tea thoughtfully. "When Saya awoke from her last sleep, she had complete amnesia. She had no recollection of anything at all. And yet this has never happened before, at least not by the records of the Red Shield, and Joel's diary."

"You're not counting Vietnam, obviously," was David's terse remark.

"That's not the same," Julia countered. "She was awakened prematurely and artificially. I think we all agree that this is why she became unstable for a short time."

"Unstable, crazy psycho death dealer, same difference," Lewis mumbled. Everyone looked to him. He shrugged and smiled.

Julia cleared her throat and continued. "And this time it was different. For a full year after her awakening, she had no memories of her previous life." She paused and looked at Kai for a long moment. "But then something happened."

Another pause, and Kai squirmed. She was looking at him as though she expected him to guess. "The attack at the school," he said slowly, trying to follow her thought.

She held up a finger. "Close. Remember, the attack at the school was the first interaction Saya had with – "

"Haji," Kai breathed, interrupting her.

She nodded. "And he gave her his blood." She turned to David. "And in those early days after the attack, when we needed Saya to fight, what was the impetus?"

"Haji," he confirmed, nodding slowly.

"His blood, to be more specific," she explained. "It is known to us that when a queen is awake, her chevalier is the primary source for her blood nourishment. I think it is also true that a chevalier's blood is what awakens her mind and memories after she has slept. Haji's blood is the key."

* * *

Hugging her knees tightly to her chest, Saya sat hunched on the gritty roof of the Omoro, staring out at nothing. Her tears had all been spent, but the dry, hot ache of them remained behind her eyelids and in the back of her throat. It was hard for her to imagine what the next hours would bring – how she would face her adopted brother after the exchange that had prompted her to leave their home in the middle of the night. Her mind was blank. She didn't know what to do; she only knew what Kai had asked of her.

Her senses suddenly prickled, though she had heard nothing. In one swift movement, instilled by years of battle, Saya rose to her feet and turned unerringly to her uninvited guest. Lulu crouched several yards away, perched precariously on the edge of the building. The last of the moonlight silvered her rather purplish hair, and her large eyes glowed disturbingly green.

"Saya," said the young looking Schiff, "what are you doing up here?"

Saya allowed her guard to drop, and it sapped most of her energy as well. She sank back down to the rooftop. "I'm…. It's nothing. Well," she struggled, trying to decide how much she wanted to disclose to her young friend. "Actually, I'm hiding."

"Not a very good hiding place," Lulu observed, uncurling from her crouch and moving to sit beside Saya. "I found you."

The corner of Saya's mouth twitched. "I'm not playing hide and seek."

"Good, cause if you were, you'd definitely lose." The two girls sat in silence for a moment, Saya looking at the sky and Lulu looking curiously at her. "So, who are you hiding from?"

Saya sighed. "Kai."

Lulu's brow furrowed. "If you're hiding from him, does that mean he's looking for you?"

"Probably." Another sigh.

The frown deepened. "Huh," she grunted, pulling on a pigtail thoughtfully. "He's not very good at this game."

Saya's mouth twitched again, the half hearted attempt at a smile. "I guess not."

It was vaguely amusing to watch the young Chiropteran wrestle this situation into perspective from her very limited experience. If she wasn't in such a mood, Saya would have explained. However, the words just wouldn't come.

Lulu wasn't quite ready to give up, however. "Was he mean to you? Or did you do something bad?"

Saya glanced at her out of the corner of her eye. "No, nothing like that. We just had an argument, that's all."

Lulu seemed relieved. "Oh," she said, "I know what you mean. Moses and Karman used to have arguments all the time, till I just wanted to tell them to shut up, you know?" Saya didn't respond. "So, did you tell Kai to shut up?" she asked in a conspirator's whisper.

"Umm, well, in a manner of speaking, yeah, I guess I did."

"You can always say you're sorry. Kai is a nice guy. I bet he'd forgive you."

Saya was surprised by a tightening in her throat. "Yeah," she choked, "he's a nice guy." Suddenly the tears threatened to overwhelm her again, along with her confusion and doubt. That was the problem, she thought to herself. Kai was a nice guy, and always willing to give until it hurt when it concerned his family and friends. He'd always been that way, and she loved him desperately for it. She wrapped her thin, bare arms around the ache in her chest. She loved him for it, but could not, would not take advantage of it for her own sake. She would not let him make this sacrifice, not after everything he had already given.

And yet, … and yet the expression on his face tonight haunted her – haunted and disturbed her deeply. She flinched away from the memory of his eyes.

She turned to Lulu, who appeared wary and a little distressed by Saya's obvious sadness. "Lulu," said Saya hesitantly, broaching a topic she had scarcely dared to think of. "Do you think that Haji is still alive?"

Lulu pulled on her pigtails once again, contemplating the question seriously. "I don't know," she said slowly, twirling her hair around an index finger. "He was pretty powerful, that's for sure. But," she reversed her argument, "I don't know if anyone could survive that, chevalier or not." She chewed her bottom lip for a moment, then her countenance relaxed. "I sure hope he did," she said brightly to Saya, "Mr. Haji was a nice guy too."

Hearing the clear and uncomplicated reasoning of her young friend, seeing her easy smile, Saya choked back a sob, pressing a hand over her mouth briefly, replacing it with a watery smile. "Yeah," she agreed thickly, "he was a nice guy too."

* * *

"What makes you think Haji is still alive?" Kai questioned the group gathered around the table. "The reports say he's dead."

David cleared his throat. "We have been unable to confirm his death," he explained.

"What does that mean?"

"There's not a body, you nit-wit," Lewis replied with exasperation. The bagels were gone, but the cream cheese remained. He eyed it with consideration.

"What he means," explained Julia, "is that when we searched the rubble of the Met, we found the remains of Amshel – "

"What was left of him, anyway," Lewis interjected.

Julia ignored him. "But we did not find Haji."

"You reported, Kai, that the balcony collapsed on them both," David reminded him. "It is reasonable to assume that their remains would be together."

Kai stared at the wooden table top, contemplating this new information. "But there's no way he could have lived, though." He looked up at the other members of Red Shield, seeking confirmation. "Right?"

"Seems unlikely," Lewis agreed. "After all, he was injured, stabbed through, dismembered, crushed under a balcony, and detonated with a bomb." He leaned back in his chair, which groaned under the man's exceptional weight. "If he lived, then he's the world's most bad ass mother –"

"Yes," David interjected, which produced a snort from Lewis. "The odds would be against it. But there is no trace of him."

The members of Red Shield looked silently at one another. "Then that means," Kai observed quietly, "that…" He trailed off. His worst fear, that Saya would awaken from her sleep and not remember him, was as real a possibility as when he'd arrived on their doorstep tonight. Unless…

"All it means," Julia helped him, "is that we don't know. It's a very frustrating thing, not knowing everything there is to know about Saya and her kind."

"But we must accept the situation for what it is," David reasoned, "Currently Saya is without a chevalier. And if Haji is indeed dead, then we simply cannot know whether Saya's amnesia will return when she wakes."

Kai took a deep breath and swallowed. "Unless Saya has another Chevalier," he said.

The others around the table all gaped at him, David with incredulity, Julia with a slightly horrified look, and Lewis with undisguised shock. "Unacceptable," David said firmly, leaning back and looking at Kai with a hard expression. "Red Shield will not allow you to do that."

"The hell it won't," Kai growled. "We are all committed to doing what's right for Saya. And if being without a chevalier means that she cannot remember her past, then we need to fix it."

"The last time I checked," said David, ice chip eyes flashing cold, "The purpose of the Red Shield was to rid the world of the Chiropteran threat. Saya is a vital part of that mission, and I swore to look after her, but I never took any oath to assure her happiness."

"You're a cold hearted ass hole. You've used her this whole time, you son of a bitch. You don't care at all."

"Do you know what a chevalier is?" David hissed. "They are a servant to the Queen; a slave to her will." He smiled, but there was no humor in it. "Why become a chevalier, Kai? You're her slave already."

"Watch it," Lewis warned quietly as Kai stood, knocking his chair over with a bang.

"Saya has given her life and happiness to serve _you_," he shouted, slapping his hands to the table and leaning down into David's expressionless face, "A slave to the Red Shield. And this is how you repay her? Look at everything she has done for this god damned organization, and tell me that she doesn't deserve for each and every one of us-" he gestured, including them all, "-to repay her in any way we can!"

"But David has a point," Lewis pointed out, who was also standing, ready to restrain Kai if it came to blows, "We're in the business of killing Chiropterans, not making more of them." His usually jovial face was grave. "That you, a member of Red Shield, would even consider this is, well, very strange."

David and Kai both opened her mouths to continue the fight, but Julia leaned in and put one hand up, silencing them all. She gave a long look to David, and it seemed to Kai that a silent conversation was being had. It ended with David sitting back and crossing his arms firmly over his chest. "Kai," she said quietly, turning to him. "I understand why you would want to do this for Saya. And it's admirable; your intentions are selfless and loving. But," she continued, rising and coming around the table to speak to him face to face, "there is another way to look at this situation. I'm guessing that tonight you and Saya spoke about this very issue, and if I'm guessing right, then she wasn't any more excited by the prospect of changing you than we are."

Kai didn't answer, but the reddening of his face was answer enough. "That's what I thought. So Kai, consider this: will Saya really be made happy by making you her chevalier?"

The look she gave him was penetrating, but it was her words that made him squirm. In his blustering and fighting for what Saya deserved, he had not really considered the fact that she too was against the idea.

Then Julia leaned in even closer, taking his arm and turning him away from the other two men, speaking in a low voice. "And I'm going to be very honest with you," Julia murmured. "In all my consideration of the situation, a thought has occurred to me. We, the people close to Saya, do not want to be forgotten by her. But considering her terrible and blood soaked, violent past…." She paused and gave Kai another searching, sad look. "Perhaps it would be kinder to let her forget."

Kai's shock at these words seemed to freeze his expression, but as they soaked in, slowly his face cracked and threatened to dissolve with the tears stinging his eyes. He turned away from them all, fists clenched, head down, trying to regain his composure. He couldn't accept that forgetting him, and Riku, and Dad, would be in her best interest. But after everything she had been made to do, all the terrible things she had seen…. His shoulders slumped. If this truly was the thing that ensured her happiness, could he live with that? What was the greater act of love, sacrificing himself to stay with her always, or allowing her to start a new life, a happier one, even if it didn't include him?

"Saya no longer has to fight," David said from behind him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "You're right, Kai, we do owe her a debt of gratitude. But that isn't the way."

"Yeah man," said Lewis, who was now sitting. "It's time to let her find a new way for herself."

"Self sacrifice is the easier task," David said quietly, a voice full of knowing, of regret. "Letting go is hardest."

* * *

Morning sounds were beginning to encroach on night's stillness as Kai parked his bike in the alley beside his father's restaurant, now his own. His hand paused over the keys before pulling them from the ignition. He hoped and yet dreaded that Saya would be here, knowing that whether it was now or later, they would have to talk this out. Crushing sadness pressed against him, suffocating him. He ripped his helmet off, breathing deeply. It was only then that he heard the music.

Soft, plaintive, the notes echoed on the slowly awakening day, slowly sliding and intertwining, fluttering down to encompass him. Tossing his helmet aside, he made for the stairs.

He pulled the door open and stepped out onto the roof, which afforded a fine view of the sunrise, and of his sister sitting on the roof's ledge with a cello balanced between her knees. He was held fast where he stood by the music being pulled from the strings by her bow, every stroke seeming to draw a long and anguished cry of emotion from the mellow sounding instrument. Her eyes were closed, letting the instrument do the explaining, and Kai listened attentively. He wasn't aware of the tears until they splashed onto his open palm. He was reaching toward her, and didn't even know why.

She opened her eyes and unerringly found his. One long last bow stroke seemed to reverberate forever before a resounding silence replaced it. His chest felt empty without its resonance. Saya set the instrument carefully aside and stood. He needed no other invitation. He was upon her in a heartbeat, both hugging the other with fierce tenderness. No words needed to be spoken, and no apologies given. Never in his life had Kai experienced such a meeting, or felt such love for another person. He found himself wondering how love could shift and move, take on so many guises, and yet be forever mysterious and infinite. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, making it a prayer. His love was infinite, even if he was not.

She leaned back just enough to see his face. "Hi," she whispered.

"Hi yourself," he replied. They both smiled. She looked over at the cello and his eyes followed. "I've never heard you play," he realized aloud.

"I told him once," she swallowed. Him being Haji. Kai nodded his understanding. "I told him I would not play until this was over; that until it was my sword was the only thing I wanted to hold."

Kai looked down and marveled at the new sunlight kissing the planes of her face, and he brushed an errant strand of hair from her eyes. Her look had the faintest taste of a question, of indecision. He nodded in understanding, releasing one arm from the embrace to reach out and draw the instrument into her hands. "It's over," he confirmed past the tightness in his throat. He smiled. "Let's hear another."

* * *

Saya rested a forearm across her brow, pushing her long bangs from her head. This was unusual – with her hibernation approaching, falling asleep was usually a little too easy. But tonight she was restless. She kicked the blankets down the bed and rolled onto her side, looking out the window. The moon was not in view, but its light gilded the clouds silver. Silver and black. She yawned. Just like his cello case. She closed her eyes…

…And abruptly opened them again.

Saya sat up and turned to the window, though she knew no one was there. No, the voice had been so near it may as well have been inside her head. And maybe it was. Maybe she had fallen asleep for a moment and dreamed it. But she knew the voice that whispered her name.

_Author's Note: My thanks to everyone who has expressed an interest in the story so far. And as I said before, the story seems to want to continue. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised, or at least I hope so. Thoughts? Please feel free to review. And thank you for reading!_


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Princes of the Blood**

**Chapter 3**

**Prague, 1987**

_The park was filled with people, some lingering, others passing through, but under the enormous sky, blushed with the gentle entrance of spring, the noise of humans going about their daily lives seemed quite insignificant. The sun had not yet regained its strength from its winter battle, and while it shone brightly, it didn't lend much warmth. Paired with a driving breeze, folks passing along the cobbled streets still wore long coats and warmed their hands in their pockets. _

_Haji saw these things as he sat on a park bench, his cello speaking under the sure guidance of his hands. It was as if he saw his surroundings and yet did not – today was no different than any other day he'd spent in the park. He sat in the same spot and played to the same nameless throng who passed him. They thought he played for them, and so would shyly deposit money in his cello case. But he paid them no mind. There was only one person he played for, but she couldn't hear him. _

_The sun was slowly sinking, now playing hide and seek behind the trees, and the temperature was dropping, tugging his bass string out of tune. He paused to tighten the peg, but then thought better of it. He'd been here long enough. And in that moment he was uncertain whether he meant this quaint, out of the way park, or in Prague as a whole. He knew she was not here, and yet he gravitated back to this stronghold of history again and again. Prague clung to the past, glorying in it. It was a city in another time. It reminded him of himself. Carefully he cleaned the strings of his companion with a soft cloth, brushing rosin dust from the polished wood. As he crouched to stow the instrument in its case, he became aware that a pair of feet had stopped on the path directly before him. Other shoes continued on their way, but these did not. Hagi's sharp blue eyes lifted and took his measure of the man. _

_He was tall and lean, wearing a long wool coat and dark fedora, and his chocolate colored eyes were trained on Haji. "Good evening," he said with a smile, in a warm and inviting voice. In one elegant gesture he had swept his hat into his left hand and extended his right. Haji did not return the invited handshake, leaving his own bandaged right hand at his side. This did not escape the man's notice. "I'm sorry, how rude," he admonished himself lightly, withdrawing the offer and returning his hat to his head, covering wavy hair nearly as dark as his eyes. "I don't mean to bother you, but you looked to be leaving, and I've wanted to compliment your music."_

_Haji now realized why the man seemed so familiar. He'd seen him several times in as many days, standing under a tree some distance away. But this was the first time the man had spoken to him. He nodded, acknowledging the admiring comment. In the time it had taken to recall him, the man had been looking at Haji intently. He felt an ache in his right hand. This man stood so very still, only his eyes alive. Like a hawk. He flexed his bandaged fingers._

"_I've not yet introduced myself," the man pointed out, his movements becoming fluid and easy again. "My name is Kazimer," he said with a slight bow. "And yours?" The smooth skin of his face and the maturity of the eyes did not match, Haji decided. It was disconcerting._

"_Haji."_

"_What an interesting name," Kazimer said. "Where does it come from?"_

_A swallow was the only indication of Haji's uncertainty. "An old family name."_

"_An old name, as aristocrats tend to have. And to look at you, one would believe you are of the royal blood." Haji could feel the man's eyes taking in his long black, unbound hair, his black overcoat lapping around his legs. He smiled coyly at Haji's confusion and discomfort. "A prince, surely." Kazimer laughed lightly at his own private joke. _

_Haji's hand ached again, and he clenched it into a fist. "Gypsy," he replied dryly. _

_Kazimer smiled warmly. "A pleasure to finally meet you, Haji." _

_Haji nodded again, and reached for the handle of the cello case. "Ah, am I keeping you?" Kazimer asked politely. "If you have an engagement elsewhere, then I shan't interrupt. But I was rather hoping to talk with you." When Haji's expression gave no indication of his intentions, Kazimer continued. "Perhaps I might tempt you with a drink?"_

"_No, thank you."_

"_Then maybe you'll permit me to walk a while with you?" _

_Haji, in all the years of his long life, had learned to trust his preternaturally sharp instincts. And right now they were telling him that he did not want to be off his guard with this man. Kazimer was all smiles and courtesy, and yet there was something… he could only describe it as an unsettling familiarity, like having something in common with a person who annoyed. He did not reply. Instead he placed his cello case back on the ground. _

_Kazimer nodded his head slightly with a curious expression, almost as though conceding a point in a game. Yes, Haji realized. Kazimer was toying with him. But why? "Please, won't you sit?" the strange man asked, taking a seat on the park bench Haji had just vacated. _

"_As you wish," came out of his mouth like the reflex it was, and Kazimer responded with another smile and laugh, as though what Haji had said was endearing somehow._

"_I won't keep you long," Kazimer assured the quiet cellist. "There is just something about the way you play. Though after meeting you, it seems a little clearer." Haji inclined his head in questioning form. "You are a man of few words," the man explained. "You speak with your music, and because of that, your music transcends the notes to something more poignant, something universal and… human."_

_Haji nodded once again, accepting the compliment in silence. "You have a particular affinity to Bach I think," Kazimer observed. "As you play, it is as though a story is playing out before my mind's eye. The fifth suite is exceptionally fine. However, the sarabande from the second suite, the one you played yesterday, truly caught my heart. It put me in mind of an old French poem." His dark eyes took on the misty look of memory. "_With my forehead against the pane as a vigil of sorrow, I search for you beyond expectation. Beyond myself. I love you so much that I no longer know which one of us is absent._"_

_Haji's breath stilled, and his hooded eyes narrowed. Who was this man? No person, no matter how great their love of music might be, could have pulled such words out of thin air. Kazimer sat with hands folded in his lap, and beneath the brim of his hat he looked out on the darkening park, but saw only his own memories. It was a convincing performance. _

_Kazimer roused himself and gave Haji a sad smile. "I'm sorry, I was lost in thought for a moment. And for each audience his own interpretation, right? Such is the burden of art. But the point is that you have a true gift, Haji. It is a gift that should be shared with the world."_

_Haji did not respond, and Kazimer turned on the bench to look at him more directly. "I would very much like to help you in that pursuit." He leaned forward slightly. "I know a person who would be very interested in hearing you play. He is here in Prague with the opera this season. In fact, I'm going to meet him now." Their eyes met. "Would you be interested?"_

"_I must decline. I have… other business to attend to."_

_Kazimer's face registered disappointment, but he reached inside his suit jacket and produced a card, which he offered to Haji. "Then perhaps you'll accept his card. I am sure he would recognize your talents… as I do." The last was delivered in the soft tone of confidences, and Haji felt a jolt of warning up his spine. He met Kazimer's intense gaze, and his impression was not dissuaded. "Consider it."_

_Haji and the disturbing stranger rose together, and Kazimer bowed slightly. "I will leave you to your business then. And Nathan is expecting me." He tipped his hat. "Until we meet again, Haji." With that, he turned and continued down the twilit pathway._

_The dark chevalier retrieved his cello case, and gave into his need to be gone from this place, a sense of something nearing fright. As he walked he tried to convince himself that in fact he had not just been confronted in the open air by another chevalier. But all of his instincts came to the same conclusion again and again. Was it a trap laid by Diva and her followers? He had never met this man before, never heard his name. But there surely was some connection – who else could it be? _

_Feeling how alone he really was, how vulnerable and exposed, he walked quickly around the corner into an alley. Then he took to the rooftops. _

**Prague, Present: Night**

Round globe streetlamps placed at intervals led him down the familiar path, shrouded in the fog from the river. It was a fitting scene, as his mind seemed foggier than not most days. He had returned here like a creature of habit, craving the familiarity, and yet, perhaps for another glimpse of the man who had spooked him all those years ago. Perhaps he had answers. Perhaps he was…. Haji didn't know to believe. He needed even the thinnest thread of continuity, something to pin his sanity to.

He felt like a wounded animal, teeth bared, ready to go down fighting. But what was he fighting? Or, rather, whom?

Haji took only a moment to rest his eyes on that bench, the one on which he had sat and played; the place where he and that strange fellow had met. He dared not linger, here or anywhere else. His senses were dulled by long injury and lack of blood nourishment, but he knew one thing for certain – he was being hunted. He dared not return to Her just yet, not when doing so meant putting her in danger. He had waited so long, the ache was hard to bear, but never would he let her come to harm.

He pulled his overcoat more tightly around his thin body, and continued down the path, holding his ruined left arm at his side.

**Paris, Present: Night**

A teenage girl looking travel weary and in need of a shower shuffled through the train station, dead cell phone in hand. "Stupid damn phone, won't keep a charge for half the damn Chunnel." She spotted a phone booth near the bank of windows before her and she shuffled a little faster. As she drew near, she noticed a man leaning against the booth, succeeding in blocking the phone. She scowled a little and continued, making every indication that she was intending to use the phone, whereas he was using it to lean on. He took no notice. He wore a black coat and black skull cap pulled over very short black hair. "Uh, excuse me man, but I need to…" Finally he acknowledged her presence, glancing up from under his dark eyebrows and pinning her to the spot with his gaze. The words dried up in her mouth. She stood this way, as if paralyzed, for an unusual amount of time before suddenly spinning on her heel and beating a fast retreat.

He did not watch her leave. He closed his eyes again.

When the public phone rang, he picked it up and spoke. "Go ahead."

"We have new information."

"Good. It seems he was here, but I'm still behind him. Catch me up." His voice was deep, with a hint of growling Scottish brogue beneath.

"I'm on it. Our southern source has new info, but I'll save that for later. The hawks are hunting in the former Soviet Bloc. They're circling Prague."

"Is there confirmation of the target?"

"Not yet, just tracking the players right now."

"Understood." There was a pause, and the man scowled. "Anything else?"

"Donovan, just so you know… the new player is entering the game."

Eyes as gray as the underbelly of a thundercloud narrowed. "Timetable?"

"Soon."

"Understood," he repeated. "Best wrap this up then." Donovan pulled up the collar of his pea coat and blended into the passing crowd. _Keep running_, he thought, addressing his quarry in his mind. _So long as I'm the one to catch you_.

**Argentina, Present: Day**

Nathan was lounging beside the sublimely turquoise pool, baking his skin in the sun when the servant timidly approached and bent to whisper in his ear. "Really! Thank God, another playmate!" he exclaimed with delight, bouncing up and heading back across the stone veranda to the main manor house.

When he entered the huge, airy entranceway to the grand villa, the object of his glee was already shedding his sport coat and hat, stifling in the oppressive humidity that glazed everything. Nathan halted; a hand perched playfully on one hip and one eye closed, the comic posture of scrutiny. What he observed was a handsome man in his late twenties with chocolate eyes and olive skin, shaved head glistening in the subtropical air.

"Well," he sighed when he noticed the man had graciously stood still for the inspection, "you still look the same."

The man's mouth curled at the corners. "So do you." Both delivered half hearted smiles. The exchange had the feel of a long standing joke whose humor had long fled and left a sting in its place.

"Except for the bald head, of course," Nathan clarified. "I'm so happy you took my advice about that. You look marvelous, like a young Ben Kingsley." Then he pouted. "Honestly, Kaz, you are so lucky. You have the most remarkable look – you can fit in anywhere. And you don't even need power of the blood to do it." He flounced away into the airy parlor whose patio doors were flung open to catch any passing breeze. "If only I had your looks," he decried, flinging himself onto a silk chaise, "then I wouldn't need to be here in the god forsaken third world, your permanent houseguest."

Kazimer had followed him in and had taken a seat near the forlorn Nathan. "Hardly third world. And if you had not been, shall we say, so self indulgent in your visibility, we wouldn't have to hide you away here. Are you saying that you are not enjoying my hospitality?"

It was delivered airily, but Nathan visually sobered somewhat. "Not at all, my dear Kaz. Your accommodations are first rate. But I've been here two long years – it feels like forever. I can't tell you how happy I am that you're here to entertain me."

"I'll do what I can, but neither of us are here for entertainment I'm afraid."

Nathan sat up somewhat, the fey act evaporating on the tropical breeze. "I'm a little surprised to see that you're alone. Are the others not come to witness the resurrection?"

Kaz was looking thoughtfully at his fingernails. "They will join us later. I have sent them on a hunting expedition."

Nathan's blue eyes widened. "Oh my," he drawled. "So I wasn't the only one to make it out of there alive?"

"Apparently not."

"It's a shame to do him in. He's delicious." Kaz rested his cheek in his hand, eyes glazed in memory. He looked contemplative, but Nathan could read no further into the expression. Nathan sighed and fell back unto the pillows again. "Well I trust your judgment in all things, Kaz."

This produced a sly smile and sidelong glance from Kaz. "Nathan, won't you call me 'big brother' as you did to Amshel?"

Nathan groaned and made a face. "Absurd. You are older than me, but no more my brother than he was." He placed a hand to his forehead dramatically. "I chafed under his idiocy."

"Is it the same for me?"

"No," Nathan replied quickly. "You at least have a kernel of intelligence."

"Only a kernel?"

"Well, I didn't want to flatter."

Kaz had a teasing glint in his dark eyes. "By all means, please do."

Nathan suddenly sat up, crossing the large, airy room to the patio doors, winding his hand in the gauze panels of curtain that breathed in and out on every breeze. "Why?" he questioned, running the feather light material over his hands. "Everyone credits you for founding the brotherhood. You are the master architect to this brave new vision we've banded together for. What more flattery do you need?"

"And did I not draw us out of the darkness?" The voice was low, confidential, and right behind him. Nathan startled, but did not turn. He nodded instead. "And does our bond of blood not make us brothers?" Kaz continued in a murmur. "Does our common ancestry not make us family?"

Now Nathan turned, Kaz's inscrutable face inches away. For once, Nathan was subdued, deferential. "Always you are right… big brother."

Kaz clapped the blond man jovially on the back. "I'm just kidding, man, you don't have to call me big brother." He turned and sauntered back into the room, and Nathan's eyes followed him. "You'll be happy to know your assignment here is nearly at an end, at least if the good doctor is correct."

"Yes, thank heaven," Nathan agreed, rejoining his host in the room. "Though he is insufferable. I suggest we drain him after this is over."

Kaz looked to be considering this. "An intriguing idea, but he may prove useful again."

Nathan pouted. "Fine. But my opinion stands. You, after all, have not had to deal with his incessant whining all this time."

"Imprisonment will do that to a man. And remember, we are in his debt for what he has been able to accomplish." Kaz beckoned to the attendant standing outside the door. "Send for Doctor Collins." He turned back to Nathan. "I can't wait to meet the newest Prince. Tell me, what is he like?"

Nathan sat back and brushed the curls from his forehead. "A fool for love."

Kaz's smile was slow and enigmatic. "Perfect."

_Author's Note: We've left Kai and Saya back in Okinawa for the moment, and moved on to meet some old faces and some new ones. Don't worry; we'll head back to Japan pretty soon. I hope you're enjoying the turn the story is taking! Please feel free to share your thoughts; I look forward to seeing what you think. And thank you for reading!_

_Poem: Le Front aux Vitres, by Paul Eluard, translation by Richard Branyon._


End file.
